A thin layer of snow covered the vast expanse of yellow sand. The temperature was so low that the sand itself had frozen into chunks of ice, and the wheels crunched as they rolled over.
Fierce winds howled across the desert, but the sand was damp, so even strong gusts had a hard time blowing it around.
The caravan left winding wheel tracks, animal footprints, and droppings in its wake.
As the sun rose over the desert horizon, several argali sheep at the rear of the caravan bleated, struggling to keep pace. A bell on the lead sheep's horns was still tinkling.
Evelyn Ford took out some yarn; she planned to crochet a few more sweaters. The Mammoths had started to slow their pace. The desert terrain was difficult to traverse, and the carriage swayed gently.
"The sun's out."
Ronan Kendrick sat across from her, helping her wind the yarn. Hearing her, he glanced out the sliding window.
